... For An Insecure Boy

His hard gaze licked the spines of passersby in the hallways, and sent chills across their necks and backs. Nobody wished to confront or even approach the burly boy, fostering a scary reputation to surface about Ren - completely contrasting his previous girly representation. An outright backfire, Ren found himself in the center of his family’s remarks once again.

“Ren, you’re going to scare away all of the girls looking like that. You’ll never find a girlfriend with that face!”
“Woah, Ren! You scared me! Stop looking so scary all the time, would you?”
“I thought you were going to beat me up if I even looked at you!”

No matter what Ren did - even if it was to appease those who ridiculed him - he could never do anything right. Middle school was rough - he lost many of his old friends, and had a hard time making any new ones. But, in eighth grade, Ren met someone by the name of Kenji Sato. He was kind, and top of their class. However, despite his obvious intelligence, Kenji remained unsociable, and floated under the radar of his fellow classmates.

Ren always saw Kenji in the halls, and noted how organized and well-put together he presented himself to be. He mentally commended him for that kind of reputation - one that Ren hoped and strived for. Throughout the three years of middle school spent together, they never spoke a word to each other. Until eighth grade, where they were put in the same class.

Nothing immediately came of this occurrence - but what sparked their friendship was the group project the class was assigned. Their goal was to form groups, and ask citizens of the city what they thought of their own, respective neighborhoods, and what could be done to improve them. The students in Ren’s group were wary of his inclusion, and were disappointed at his involvement in their group.

“Ren looks way too intimidating, he’ll just scare away all the people we have to interview!” One student commented in a whisper to the girl to his left. “Yeah, maybe we should just leave the outline of our interviews to Ren, and we’ll do all the talking!” The former boy nodded, and stole a glance at the silently saddened, burly Ren in front of him.

“This is a group project,” Kenji stated formally, his voice sturdy and strong, “We all have to participate equally, or else it’s not fair. And, besides, it’s just Ren. He’s not going to bite people’s heads off, you know.” Ren looked to the boy that so easily came to his defense, and a warm feeling spilled out of his heart and into his chest.

Since that seemingly small moment, Ren and Kenji became the best of friends. Ren told Kenji about all of his internal struggles with who he’s supposed to be, and how he’s always unsure of who he actually is. Kenji admitted a similar turmoil he was going through - how his parents were forcing him to become a doctor, despite his love for photography.

The two best friends made a pact: to help the other pursue their dreams and idealizations that they truly desired - despite having no support from anyone else besides one another. Ren became Kenji’s model for photography, and Kenji emotionally and mentally supported Ren in his attempts to discover who he really is - no matter when, no matter where.

Things were going great, and eighth grade soon became the best year of his life. Finally, after years of mental tumult and social isolation, Ren had found a friend. However, all good things must come to an end, and the time for these eighth graders to enter highschool approached quicker and quicker as the days rolled on.

Kenji was attending a school far away from their city’s hometown, and Ren would be attending a local highschool in Shinjuku. They promised to keep in touch, and after a goodbye filled with sorrow and despair, the two friends were separated.

Ren texted Kenji everyday, leaving good morning texts for his best friend to wake up to - reminding Kenji that Ren will always support him, no matter the distance between them. However, in an unpredictable and unprecedented turn of events, Kenji never responded to Ren’s thoughtful messages. Not once, not ever. Kenji did not have the care to even read the messages, let alone reply to them.

As he entered highschool, Ren also entered a state of depression and despondence. How could his only friend completely forget about his existence so carelessly? Did their bond and promise mean nothing to him? Was Ren just a nuisance that Kenji finally rid himself of?

Ren began to not care about his outward appearance - but not in the positive way he was supposed to. Days went by without him showering, getting out of bed, or even eating. His hair grew long once again, but his large and brawny body remained. A combination of his femininity from childhood, along with his bulky transformation from middle school combined to make the person Ren faded into.

Senior year of highschool finally came, and Ren was in the worst state of mind he had ever been in. Despite having let go of the grudge he once held against Kenji, Ren could not dig himself out of the hole he threw himself in.

Though having it emotionally and mentally hard growing up, there was nothing of immediacy that was making Ren this depressed. Unable to find happiness within himself, or even the world around him, Ren decided this depressed and downright hopeless person was now who he was.

And he hated it.

He hated who he allowed himself to become, and Ren cried himself to sleep nearly every single night at the mere thought. One evening, Ren found himself staring at his reflection in his shared bathroom mirror. An expression of muted distress smothered his features, and his internalized anger formed fists in his tight hands.

“Nothing you do is ever right,” He spat at himself - disgusted by what he saw, “Nobody fucking cares about you - you can’t be who they want you to be, so they forget about you. They all do. If no one even wants to remember you, what’s the point in being here at all?!” In a fit of anger, Ren throws the soap dispenser at the mirror - causing the glass to shatter, and a large chunk falls from the wall.

Catching the chunk in his hands, Ren curses himself out as he stares at the cracked mirror. Dragging his gaze back to the fragment in his loose grasp, Ren’s mind fogs over. His eyes glaze over in tears, and his lips draw inwards as his eyes stay trained on the tempting glass in his hands. “Do it,” Ren whispers ever so faintly under his breath, “Do it, and put the people out of their misery.”

Tightening his right hand around the shard, he flexes his left forearm in preparation of the glass. His hands were shaking, and his knees were buckling. All the signs in his life pointed towards this, yet he still felt anxious in the act. Clutching the glass even tighter, blood begins to pour from his palm.

Just when the weapon was about to graze his forearm, a loud thud penetrates the wooden door of the bathroom. “Ren?” A small voice questions curiously from the other side, “Are you in there? It’s dinner time! Come eat with us, we’re having meat! Come on, I’ll share with you!”

It was Ren’s little cousin, beckoning him to join his family for dinner. The sudden change of atmosphere made Ren drop the glass onto the floor - since his grip went limp, and his eyes stared back into the broken mirror. Soon, the child’s voice stopped, and small footsteps tapped against the floor and down the hallway.

A few minutes of silence went by within the bathroom as Ren mulled over what just happened. His eyes stayed trained on his own, cracked reflection, and a pure look of disbelief and shock swam through his gaze. Allowing his hands to fall to his sides, Ren’s breathing evened out - him not even noticing his breaths were out of order to begin with.

“Tomorrow, after school,” Ren promised himself in a determined, low voice, “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Tomorrow rolled around, and Ren was about to exit the school doors for the last time. His heavy footsteps carried a weight that he was forced to bear all by himself. The late afternoon sun cast a dense orange glow upon the shoe lockers of the open room, and the clean tile floors ricocheted that same light. He was the only student present, and the silence that sang into his ears caused the sound of his pounding heartbeat to make up for the lack of noise.

Slowly carrying himself to the exit, Ren’s bag felt bulkier, his uniform felt weighted, and his knees felt looser. Reaching his hand out to push open the doors, a young girl stepped in front of him: blocking the doorway. “Excuse me!” She said, her eyes squinted shut, and her hands placed firmly behind her back, “It is a pleasure to be in your presence, Mr. Jin!”

Ren was beyond confused, and by her choice of words, she must be an underclassman. He didn’t say a word, but he basked in her appearance. She had uneven, choppy hair with random black strands contrasting her many white strands. Her uniform was out of order, and her outward impression was disheveled and unkempt. Completely opposite from that of Kenji Sato.

“I am Junko Fukumoto - a freshman here,” The girl began again, realizing Ren was not going to comment on her sudden appearance, “And I… I am your biggest fan!” Though seemingly impossible, Ren grew even more confused at the interaction. “What?” He questioned, compete befuddlement lacing his words.

A large and obvious blush grew upon her cheeks, and Junko bowed her head in embarrassment. “No! Not like that! Don’t take that the wrong way!” Ren looked around him, to see if any onlookers were as bewildered as he was. Just then, Junko shoved a canvas from behind her back into Ren’s face.

“This painting is yours, right?” She asks, with her flushed face hiding behind the painting, “I saw it at the beginning of the year, and I fell in love with it! I thought you were in the art club, but they said you just show up sometimes and paint, then leave the artwork behind. So, I took this one - I hope you don’t mind - and I kept it for safekeeping. Art like this deserves to be in museums! It deserves more recognition-”

“I don’t paint anymore. That’s not mine,” Ren said sternly, though a lie. Junko’s face fell at the dismissal, but the hope and determination still persisted in her eyes. “This is your signature in the bottom corner, yes? Don’t lie to me, Mr. Jin. I’ve remembered you all this time, you can’t fool me!” Junko remarked, pointing to Ren’s obvious signature on the bottom left-hand corner.

Ren’s eyebrows scrunch together, and he looks at the crazy girl in front of him. “You remembered me? But, we’ve never even met…” Ren’s words made Junko smile mischievously, and she drew the canvas down to her front.

“From the first time I saw this painting, I knew I had to meet you,” She answered, her voice higher than a whisper, but low enough just for Ren to hear, “I joined the art club to see you, even though I suck at everything art related. When you would come in to paint, I’d watch you.”

Her eyes fell onto the painting resting against her stomach. “I want to paint like you, Mr. Jin,” She admitted bashfully, “Please, teach me!” Junko exclaimed suddenly and forcefully, her eyes fully determined and stubborn. Ren backed up at the unexpected proposal, and his eyes went wide.

The sun from outside accentuated Junko’s silhouette, and made her crazed hair seem to ignite into flames. It gave the illusion that she was glowing - that she possessed such a great warmth and light within her, that it was pouring out of her pale skin. Ren wanted to absorb that light, that warmth. He wanted to feel what that was like, not knowing if he ever knew at all. A familiar and warm, fuzzy feeling erupted within his chest. He wasn’t sure of the last time he felt this, but the feeling welcomed him earnestly.

Reluctantly, Ren agreed to teach Junko how to paint. She was terrible, as she admitted, but she was eager to learn, nonetheless. Ren thought he wanted nothing more out of these interactions than to watch her grow as an artist. The nagging reminder at the back of his head constantly poked at him whenever Ren felt more and more comfortable in Junko’s presence:

‘She expects you to be some great artist, when you know you’re not.’
‘Don’t think too much of this, she’ll learn to paint then forget you ever existed.’
'She won’t last.’

Junko never progressed in her art, but Ren did not want to let this determined girl down. He made a promise to her, and he would keep that promise until it was fulfilled. However, despite all of his attempts, Junko never got any better. Ren immediately placed all of the blame onto himself, and he berated himself for being such a terrible teacher.

The amount of frustration and disappointment within Ren forced itself out in deep, hurtful cries in the presence of his student. “I’m so sorry, Junko!” Ren cried, as tears flowed down his face in tsunamis of despair, “I can’t do anything for you! I’m no good! Just forget about me, already! There’s no use in trying to learn anything from me, when I know nothing at all!”

Junko was stricken with shock, and her pale blue eyes went large at Ren’s outburst. Something within her heart told her that this scene was more than just about the art, and he was unleashing a multitude of pent up emotions that had been bottled up for far too long. Her heart dropped at the thought, and she began shaking her head.

“Forget you?” Junko asked, her voice sweet and soft, “You’ve become such a great friend to me, how could I just forget you like that?” She placed a tender hand onto his shaking back, and the crying man’s eyes went wide at her words. They were all too familiar to Ren.

Suddenly standing up straight, Ren stared down Junko as fear and disbelief ran around in his eyes. “Don’t say that to me. You know those are just pathetic lies,” He spat at the unknowing girl in front of him. Junko’s lips parted, and her breath hitched within her throat. “I’m not lying, Ren!” She rebuked, her voice growing determined to convince the sorrowful boy in front of her.

Sighing, Junko collected her thoughts before continuing with her convincing for Ren. “I only have one other friend, and I’ve known him since I was six. His name is Jiro, and he’s a lot like us,” Junko’s story slowly began to calm the once hysterical Ren, and he listened intently to her recollection.

“I don’t become friends with people just to get something from them, you know. I look for companions, for people I want to share part of my life with. To share laughter, happiness, memories - and even share arguments, fights, and bad days all mixed into one. I’m not sure what you wanted out of this, but that’s what I was hoping for since the beginning, Ren. And that’s the truth.”

Ren’s heavy breaths wisped off of his lips as he severely pondered Junko’s thoughtful and whole-hearted words. Maybe - in the caves of his mind - he, too, wanted a friendship from Junko. The realization made Ren’s heart jump, and he stood straight up from his slouched position.

“I…” He began, trying to find the right words, “I think I… want that, too.”

Junko smiled brightly, and she looked to Ren with a loving affection in her eyes. “Can I tell you a story?” Ren asked, his voice light and hopeful, as his eyes conveyed the same tone and emotion. Junko nodded tenderly, allowing Ren to find comfort in her presence. Sighing, Ren began to tell Junko his own story.

A story that had no real aim or goal throughout its entirety. And, despite Ren being the coined author, the story was written by other characters throughout the narrative. Ren never held the pen, and he allowed the people around him to write his own storyline, forcing himself to go along with the script.

A story that wasn’t finished yet - thanks to Junko’s persistence that one late afternoon after school. Had she not showed up unannounced, Ren would not be here today. He would not be able to cry, to laugh, to sing, to paint… all of the things he could do with Junko. All of the things that will make memories to look back on, to reminisce about, and to think fondly of.

Ren grew to love Junko, in a best friend type of love. The amount of hope and joy she instilled into that depressed and despondent boy changed his life as he knew it. In his mind, he owed everything to the choppy-haired girl, and would do anything for her. She brought him life again, and she brought him meaning. Ren protects Junko, like he’s protecting his will to live.

And now that he let Junko become injured without him even knowing, all of the blame in the world was placed onto his pitiful shoulders - in his own, damaged mind.